All the Pain Money Can Buy
by Libertine Past
Summary: Cole survives the Neptune disaster only to find the rest of his world turned upside-down. His grandmother's death unlocks secrets, surprises, and threatens to expose his passion for Olivia.
1. Nitty Gritty

(A/N: I've tweaked some of the tsunami, and for the purpose of this story [and its plate being very full], Olivia doesn't know that Trey is her child. So, let's go!)

* * *

 _Wednesday, September 9, 1998_

 _Juliana_

There were no servants in the room when I lost my footing, no housecall man with a black bag. He never had anything good in that bag, anyhow.

Before I could wonder what happened to my left side, I felt as if I was being wrestled to the ground.

I hit the tea table inherited from my mother, Louise Cole, heiress to a shipbuilding fortune. All the pictures frames crashed to the floor, snapshots of a hollow-cheeked boy. Portraits in orange groves, candids on beaches. The laser beam backdrop I hated, but agreed to.

I always felt falsely younger, with such a young soul in the house.

As I curled on my side in frozen moments of his life, I didn't feel any regret. Not at all. What woman _never_ dreams of having a child entirely to herself? I would have done it again, and again- traded my soul in that weathered attaché. Emeralds, diamonds, deepwater pearls, for that unfailing look of trust.

Trust, at least, until Cole knew the truth.

The Lady in Black surrendered to the light, at last. Evergreens parted their liquid branches. Bone became as thin as sheets. There was an army of people coming towards me, like ants trampling open a white peony. Armando took my hand and guided me into tomorrow.

* * *

 _Wednesday, September 9, 1998_

 _Cole_

It started with a goldless sundown. I'm not gonna pretend I was having any deep thoughts while I stared at the tide. _La Niña's_ sky was as gray as soot and I was thinking about cigarettes. In my European heyday I had only been a social smoker, but it made me feel like some great fire-breathing illusionist- the fantasy being that I actually had friends.

My arms were folded and I always liked the way my biceps looked when I did this. Feeling like crap, I wanted to give a passerby the ol' Mr. Clean, just to get a long glance in return. But, there was no one around, which probably meant I was just crazy.

I'd almost been lost sea a few weeks before. Pretty fitting for a pirate. At times I wondered if I'd actually died, and was just wandering around some kind of purgatory.

When you almost widow your new wife by saving someone like Francesca Vargas, it's difficult for your spouse to just roll with the aftermath. The panic attacks, the episodes. She takes your son to your mother's to "clear her head." She calls to see how you're doing and then zones out during your answers.

 _You_ zone out during your answers.

My jean pocket stirred to life. Getting startled was never a picnic for me lately, but Jesus, Cole, it was only a little electronic chirp. I pulled the phone antenna up with my teeth, flipped it open and answered, "Yo."

That was how I answered the call. THE call. Even after I'd spent a weekend in Cedar Oaks because a firework went off too close to me, I was too cool for my own good.

"Master Cole, it's Tobin."

It was the butler at Deschanel Manor. He was every bit the clichéd time capsule guy you'd imagine. Decanting wine, polishing silver, testing the dust on ledges with his white gloves. I wondered how he'd gotten this number, until I realized Grandmother had given me my first and only cell. _"It opens like a quahog!"_ she said, one of her Rhode Island-isms from her childhood in Newport.

My number was probably taped to her little flowered telephone chair. Hell, my number was probably on every bathroom wall in every continent.

"Hey, um…it's been a while, right?"

He didn't bite on that, not that I expected him to. "I'm afraid I have some terrible news," he continued. "Madam Deschanel has passed away, from a stroke."

Listen…I knew this day would come. You have no idea how aware of it I was. Kids are cruel. They reminded me all the time that Grandmother was old and would die long before all their moms and dads. I felt her decline in my own bones. I promised to steal the Deschanel jewels in preparation for this day. Her death had been a permanent red circle floating over my calendar since I was trafficked into her life.

And still. Still had the sand ripped out from under me.

How often did you read in obituaries that someone had died _"surrounded by her loving family?"_ What would my grandmother's say?

"Oh my God…I can't…thank you, for letting me know."

His voice remained as flat as ever. "The funeral arrangements have been preemptively made for some time, but it would be in your best interest to arrive at the estate tomorrow at noon. The attorney will present the video will."

I nodded uselessly and a random rollerblader waved on the strand. "…I can be in San Simeon by noon. I just need a moment to process all this. Take care."

I snapped the quahog shut. I held my fist to my mouth, passing each knuckle over my lip. I remembered the waxy smell of my knees when they were tucked into my chest, when I was a kid. I remembered my chin in her delicate hand.

Since Cole's Bridge Burning Service had severed our ties, she could've left me with a little something or a ton of nothing.

A part of me wanted to say "I don't need your blood money," but now I had a son. There was a lot of work remaining in the aftermath of the earthquake, and I was doing that construction everyday, lest the occasional psychiatric hospitalization. Coming home to a hotel room. Exhausted, knotted up, concrete pebbles raining from my eyebrows.

But, satisfied with the good my hands could do.

I was lucky to be alive.

Mémé…

She was on a cold metal table at McDermott-Crocket Funeral home, her sunken mouth being stuffed with cotton.

I realized I hadn't taken my Prozac that day, and the tears started to well up. I sniffed and couldn't smell anything. The horizon was squiggling.

No. I couldn't lose it over her. It would be the worst betrayal to Elaine. My grandmother was a calculating criminal. Good people didn't rip a child from his mother because she lived in a studio apartment. _Pollutin' their bloodline,_ Del had hissed at my mother.

I could call someone. AJ obviously needed to know, even though he'd never actually let his mother know that he was alive. He referred to her only as Ana. That said something.

I squeezed the bridge of my nose until it must've looked like I had a third eye. I'd spent far too long thinking that Grandmother was the only person in the world who loved me. The last year couldn't erase that.

" _Mémé, a boy at polo made fun of me. He said you drive a stupid old Jag, and I have holes in my face and I'm an orphan."_

" _First of all, that car has a fully restored engine, which he can get a better look at when I close the hood on his neck. And by the way, I'm an orphan too, darling. You're all I have in this world, and I wouldn't trade you for all the gold in it. And these," she said, taking the dimples in my cheeks, "Are God's thumbprints. He didn't want to let go of this face, to let you out of heaven."_

Brutal rain was making dark pits all around me. I don't know when I started running, but the sand barely slowed me down. Rain made people crazy in Southern California, let alone the haunted ones.

I'd never used the grotto as shelter from anything this tangible.

I felt like I was sinking so low, I barely had to duck through the narrow opening. The pounding rain echoed inside the cave. It drizzled gossamer thin into cracks in the walls. I wondered how I could see so much detail, until I saw the fire on the ground.

Olivia's presence was a hit to the solar plexus before she even appeared, and she did what she always did- gasp, surfacing from her own mind. "Cole."

We let out our breath together. There was more auburn and gold in her hair lately, and the fire only amplified it. "Olivia." I never felt any transmission between my brain and lips when it came to her name. It was extracted from me. "I didn't mean to- I-I should go."

"Get _in_ here!" she said, taking my arm. The fire was bright enough that I could see that long blue vein on her temple that flared when she was angry. "Completely drenched, as if that won't bring back anathing unpleasant?"

She had a point. All kinds of things triggered vaulted-up memories of the cruise. "I still take showers, you know."

"Not with your _clothes_ on _._ "

Her shoulders tensed a little at what she'd said, and I was hit with a memory of the second-skin tux restricting my movements on the ship. I swallowed ice. "God, no one is more triggering than you sometimes, Olivia, and you weren't even there. What are you, a hypnotherapist or something?"

"I wish."

I slapped my hand over my eyes. She still didn't remember the night she gave birth. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Her hair was swept up elaborately with nothing but a piece of leather with a chopstick through it. She was wearing a flint colored suit with a darker gradient halfway down, that made it look like smoke was rising up her body. My bright yellow shirt was making me feel like a mining canary. I hated how my soaked gel hair was plastered to my forehead, and she seemed to understand this, spiking it out of the way gently. No more than a few seconds could've passed, but my throat went dry from the tenderness. Our arms moved in awkward frames to folded positions.

"So. What did he say to you this time, and why should it even matter?" I asked.

Her forehead was contemplative under her bangs. I always knew when she was thinking about him. It would move from her eyes to mine like Windex on dirt. "I don't always come here to wallow," she said.

"True. I'm sure you come to look at Gregory's cave paintings."

She stifled a laugh. "I'm sure they'd put the ones in France to shame." She wrapped a blanket around my wet shoulders and pushed me to a seated position by the fire. "First things first," she sighed. "What dragged _you_ in here?"

For a second, all I could feel was the blanket on the nape of my neck. The rain tightened around the grotto, and I just said it. Softly, but surely. "…I, um...just got a call from the butler at the mansion. My grandmother had a stroke. She's gone."

"Oh!" she breathed, clutching her pendant. "I'm so sorry." Her arms went around me and I straightened up, startled. She pulled away before my slumpy arms had a chance to reciprocate, because my first impulse had been to smell her. I felt like my clothes would suddenly be dry when her eyes cut back to me, a glaring continuity error. "This couldn't have come at a worse time."

"Well, that was her timing," I said quickly. "Kinda expected it to happen long before now. Can't get myself all worked up about a kidnapper, anyway."

"Cole, the aloof routine is as see-through as one of Annie's cocktail dresses. Your memories are still precious, still valid, and you know it. You love your Granny."

"I did."

"You _do._ "

"I don't want Mom to feel- "

"She'll understand."

I shot her a look. "You've got a snappy answer for everything, don't you?"

"Well, let's face it, Juliana never could've snatched you without _accomplices."_

Sometimes, I did wonder where all the fancy dresses Olivia bought with her ten-thousand dollars were now. I pictured them strung between us on a clothesline. "Olivia…we don't have to rehash all this. Not now."

"Don't we? Without Del and I, what would she have done? Maybe become a part of your life by distinction and not by lies, as I should have with Gregory. That's what."

"You had everything to offer him without the Leeza makeover. I wish you could've seen that. Most of all, I wish _he_ could've seen that. So, I think we can agree that part of this is Gregory's fault, as usual. It's funny- he and Madam Puppet Master had a lot in common."

"True. But _,_ it's difficult for me to…it's…."

"…What?"

"Her plan poisoned my life…but like it or not, that woman raised the sort of man who saved it. That's not how karma usually works, is it?"

I remembered the heart-wrenching groans that Olivia's convertible made on the edge of the ravine. My hands doing things to the door I thought only the jaws of life could, to free her.

My hand feeling like it could crush that bottle of Dom Pérignon and Valium, without my palm shedding a drop of blood.

My fear of these moments thrashed against in my ribcage. I had saved her daughter too, hadn't I? No, Caitlin had been saved by the Sisters while I tended to Olivia. A raw spot grew in my chest. "Oliv-…my…actions, had nothing to do with her."

"Perhaps, but the least I can do is grieve the best of Juliana Deschanel, because it's the best of you. It's alright to let the sorrow out. Completely and unashamedly. What better place than here?"

My eyes traced the bare color of her lips. I realized I had extended the blanket around her, too.

 _Fancy dresses, Cole._ That's what my life was exchanged for. Worse yet, bad 70's ones with paisley and sequins. _Fancy_ _dresses._ I always tried to play those words over and over in my head when waves of attraction for her swept over me, but it did no good.

I knew that Mémé's death would hit me hard, but I was still in shock. It would be like cartoon gravity; I'd only fall once I really realized the ground wasn't there. "Grandmother will have to wait in line for my grief."

Her eyes reflected my sadness back. "Your marriage isn't over."

" _Cole, you climb up first! You first!"_ I remembered Caitlin crying out. Francesca's heels bit into my shoulders as I boosted her to safety, until steam flash-peeled my skin. "Really. I let my ex-girlfriend use me as a human ladder, and then I fell down the ship funnel. Caitlin's having a hard time processing that."

"I know. And through Cait's eyes, I get it. But in a disaster, everyone is just a human being in need of a second chance. The thing that worries me is if you felt you…deserved to be sacrificed."

That was a long, dark road I didn't want to go down. The sleepless nights spent clutching pillows, weeping for my secret son who never filled his little lungs. The son I abandoned for another. "It's just…Olivia, I've been thinking…" I shivered. "Maybe if I had been with you when you went into labor, I could've…"

"No. _No,_ " she said, her voice trembling. "Cole, what could you have done? You're weighing yourself down with a _hypothetical_ child. No. You have more than enough stones in your pockets. Let me carry that burden. Besides…I think it's for the best that you didn't witness the birth of either child. You can't even watch Elaine take the giblets out of a chicken."

I laughed out loud for the first time in a while. I paused to watch her smile, and saw my living son's smile in hers. "I miss Trey."

"Me, too," she sighed. "He's what brought me here tonight. He's the only thing that keeps things amicable between Gregory and me. The earthquake cemented that fact. But, he isn't ours. It's just pretend."

"Hey, hey…" I said, rubbing her back slowly. "No, it isn't. Listen...the wake and funeral will probably be Friday into Saturday. When Caitlin comes back, why don't you take care of Trey? You and Gregory can bond over him again." Because I can't have you in my 12-bedroom house while I'm pathetically emotional, I finished in silence.

"That's very kind of you," she said, her irises eclipsed by her pupils as the fire weakened. "But I…I need to support…A-AJ in San Simeon this week-end. I know his feelings about this will be as complicated as yours."

"I'll, um…I'll be supportive of him too, as best I can," I sighed. "It's the least I can do, after he jumped out of a helicopter to pull me out of the bad Metallica video I was floating in."

It was still kinda hard to say _AJ saved my life_ out loud. Olivia raised an eyebrow, knowing this, but left it alone. "We both owe him a lot. As hard as it will be for him to revisit that time in his life, he will, for you."

"You don't think he'll sneak off to some mysterious business meeting?"

"I'm sure he'll embrace the chance to regale you with Deschanel history without his mother interrupting."

I kneaded my lids, my eyeballs throbbing beneath them. "God...awkward bonding central. This is gonna be sw-eet. Going home and being called 'Master Cole' again, having scotch glasses whisked away before I'm even done. Being alone during the will reading."

"Why?"

"I don't expect Caitlin to rush to San Simeon tomorrow morning. That's when I have to be there."

"AJ should be at the reading, too."

"I'm not too sure about my standings, but I'm pretty sure her presumed-dead son was scratched out."

"She could've kept him in the will out of blind hope, for all we know. So…your father and I will accompany you tomorrow, Caitlin and Trey will join us later and…Gregory-will-attend-the-reading-for legal-counsel," she added, talking like a chipmunk.

"What? There's no way he's going to agree to that! Not for Grandmother, not for AJ and _definitely_ not for me."

"He will for _me_ , and his morbid curiosity. All he has to do is toss Annie the checkbook, and he's free to let his weakness get the best of him."

I sighed, turning my dimples inside out with the force. "H'alright." Inaction wasn't Gregory's thing either, I guess. One of the few things we had in common. "God, this is surreal."

"I know." The grotto was silent for a bit, except for the crackling fire. Had more living taken place within these walls, or dying? More promises made, or promises broken? "Tell me a story about your grandmother," she said.

"I don't have a flashlight to put under my chin," I grumbled.

"Come on, please?" Her eyes pushed me on. Hopeless. I was a dinghy spinning around in that whirlpool of blue.

"OK, story, story, God, I don't know…I threw up in her hands once."

" _That's_ the first thing that popped in your head?" she giggled.

"I don't know, it just did. The saddest part is, she wanted me to aim for them. She was like, 'this is the clown's mouth, darling, _bien viser,_ '" I said, acting it out with cupped hands. "Better there than on some chaise lounge from the Vanderbilts, I guess."

"That's a universal parenting thing, you'll see, catching a technicolor belch. You'll get there with Trey."

I laughed, and mine bounced off hers. I kept reminiscing, spurred on by the laughter. Sometimes it was a disease with Olivia and me.

"I used to bring her bouquets of peonies from the garden. They were always swarming with ants," I chuckled. "The fact that I didn't fit into that world had a way of showing, but she just put a trap under the vase and soldiered on."

"The ants are what opens them up, the peonies," Olivia said. "She wasn't the type of mother to AJ that she was to you- a nanny did all the grunt work with him. You opened her."

Remember when I said that anything could trigger cruise memories? From the way I felt about Olivia right then- so quietly content I got afraid that something would happen to her- adrenaline heat filled my veins. Ants. The people on the Neptune looked just like a bunch of scrambling ants.

"The uh…fire's cashing out. Kinda hard to see," I said. The lack of light began to make my heart pump faster, my eyes straining, my twitching muscles thinking for themselves. I cleared my throat and it hit the grotto walls with the acoustics of a cathedral. The very first time I saw Olivia, I told her I had come here to drown.

"Oh, great, I'm out of kindling…Cole?" My slip into the abyss was completely visible. Olivia put her hand on the crook of my arm, and the rhythm against the thin skin must've jumped out at her. "What is it?"

"Just starting to get a little…claustrophobic," I said, my face slick and hot.

" _You're an adventurer, Cole!"_ Mémé had always said, but adventurers didn't scour the globe pretending to want jewels and really wanting the warm bodies they dangled from. They didn't do a line of coke in Saint-Tropez to forget that they were abandoned at a hospital, they didn't look in the mirror and shave their faces raw because no man had ever taught them how. Adventurers knew how to survive on their own.

I looked up at the grotto entrance and it was blocked.

"Oh God, oh man, fuck! A mudslide, a r-rockslide covered it, we're trapped!" I stammered, grabbing her hand and stumbling up the rocks. "The tide will come in and kill us!"

Olivia's voice was calm, but sounded a million miles away, in another lifetime. _"Cole, you're having a panic attack, look at me, we're okay. I can see the rain falling outside the entrance!"_

"I have to get you out of here!"

" _Cole, trust me!"_

I wouldn't turn around. I lunged for the cave opening and hit my head on the jagged archway, seeing blue stars.

 _I was back on the ship again, back in the sour ocean water, using Phillip Vargas's body to stay afloat, my forehead pressed to the top of a cold steel air pocket that was closing by the second. I was battered, burned and far from a Navy Seal at that point, and was preparing for my life to be measured by how long I could keep my exhausted lungs still. The last wisp of air on my lips before the water sealed me in was "Olivia."_

When it had come down to the nitty gritty, that's what I said.

I fell back to September. She was holding my wrist so the steam-scarred palm touched the rain outside. "See? It's alright. Just trust me."

I crouched through into the open air and fell to my hands, letting the rain enfold me. My eyes burned like hell. I turned to see her beside me, gemologist close, outside the safety of the grotto as the rain intensified again. She tried to blink the water out of her eyes, maybe some mist in them too. There was a sober version of her eyes from that first night we met, a high voltage blue that made it seem unsafe for her to be near lightning. I figured out then why it was called "taking" a lover. It was so damned hard to give them back, especially when you didn't even know who to give them back to.

 _Fancy dresses._

It never worked.

We drifted. Her shoulders rising and falling quickly under the storm, she slowly kissed my mouth. I didn't flinch. The kiss was so warm compared to the rain, and my tongue responded desperately. All of me did. Thunder rolled over the shore as I held Olivia's wet hair, face, and kissed her neck. I was about to flood my hands with her breasts, just to feel her heart beating through them. I came to again, and pulled back sharply.

"I'm so sorry," I said, stumbling back. "F-for freaking out." Did the kiss count as freaking out, too? I wasn't sure. She'd laid it on me with intention, with ache, with greedy sounds, but I had acted like I'd been waiting for it for years.

There I was, running again. "Cole, wait!"

It would take me most of the night to shower, dry myself off all over again, and fall asleep for a single kiss re-living hour.

As I stared at the ceiling at five in the morning, I remembered my Aunt Theda's voice. _"Ana's boy once courted this tedious English thing from Essex- you know, their version of New Jersey? She helped the staff set the table at supper._ _ **That**_ _was her way of making a fine impression, can you believe it?"_

The overlapping and crashing and twisting of all these lives started to make my head throb. The "thing"now owned the Deschanel jewels and was going back to the manor with AJ/with the enemy Richards/with Elaine's baby/with three lovers/back back back into the Deschanel web and Mémé the spider was tangled in it, dead.

* * *

(A/N: All the Pain Money Can Buy is Fastball's 1998 LP)


	2. Survivor's Gilt

Author's note: As usual, guys, I appreciate your patience with my less-than-timely updates. It's been a tough year, but I'm back in my writing groove. Thanks for reading and commenting!

* * *

 _Thursday, September 10, 1998_

 _Cole_

This was going to be the most awkward ride of my life.

I wasn't used to the smell of newness, after I'd spent my life jetting from old money to Old World. My universe was worn leather, Carrara marble, musty books. The first time I held my son on the side of the road in Ojai, I'd never smelled anything so new.

But the new car smell of Gregory's Mercedes M-Class was something heinous. I was wearing a suit, glad it had been in the back of the closet for a while at the Waffle Shop. Anything to counteract the chemical burn in my nose.

Olivia and I were in the back of the SUV, AJ and Gregory in the front. Alanis Morriessette's four personalities. I knew AJ didn't want Olivia riding shotgun with her ex, so the two of us in the back were seen as a harmless arrangement. Yep, and that was ironic enough to make me want to climb out the window and get taken out by a low overpass.

 _Where do we go from here?_ was a recurring question for Olivia and me, but I didn't know why the kiss seemed more insurmountable than grieving a secret child.

Maybe the fact that I kept mentally referring to it as THE kiss was the problem.

Of course, we kept our gazes fixed out the windows at our sides. In my mind, the glass was covered in rain drops.

My hour of fitful sleep had left me so tired, my head kept drifting to the right. Once the highway traffic returned to an average speed of 70, Gregory felt in his element again and spoke. "It was a wonderful idea to carpool, Olivia, champion of the environment that you are."

"Cole shouldn't be driving," she said, but didn't look my way. "And besides, what's the point of having this petrol-guzzling monster, if you never even fill the seats?"

"I like to be alone someplace _spacious._ Cavernous. There's nothing like it. "

"My son and I know all too well how terribly _lonely_ it can be," AJ said.

I wished everyone would stop talking about me like I wasn't there. "But you can't beat the acoustics," Gregory said, turning up the CD player. Two loud drumbeats and _*Wake up Maggie, I think I got something to say to you!*_ crashed down on my eardrums.

"Jesus, Gregory!" I groaned, pinching my forehead.

"How nice of you to join us, Cole," he chuckled after turning the music down. "Sorry to interrupt your _very_ convincing catatonia."

"Oh, please," AJ snapped. "You've defended enough homicidal widowers to know actual grief when you see it."

Their back and forth began to slip beneath Rod Stewart's gritty voice singing about his older lover. I thought the tension crushing me would transmit to Olivia somehow, but she didn't look my way. When I finally saw two blue fireflies my periphery, I was too paralyzed to look back. _*You stole my heart, and that's what really hurts.*_

"-Oh, right right," Gregory shot back. "He told the old bag exactly where to go last year, then runs to the will reading in a suit, with dollar signs in his eyes. Well, I didn't plan on kicking off the weekend at the Neverland Ranch, but it'll all be worth it when my fees exceed Cole's inheritance."

"No," Olivia said. "There _are_ no fees. They're on me."

"I see," Gregory said. "Poor Cole, the ward of Olivia's guilt."

" _And_ I should mention that the Deschanel jewels are in my mini-rucksack, every last piece."

Gregory swerved the car involuntarily and we all gasped. AJ whipped around and I was sure Gregory would've done the same if he wasn't driving. There was an all-male chorus of _"What?"_

"I'm returning them to the estate, where they belong. Yes, I own them legally, tra-la-la, but we all know they weren't Del's to bequeath in the first place."

"Olivia," I began, the first time I'd said her name since last night, and her eyes registered it. "I appreciate that, but you can't just put them down on a mantel somewhere and say 'Here you go.'"

"You don't understand, Cole, I can't set foot in that house without them. I've made up my mind and it's final."

"Darling, it's not as if the roof would cave in on you," AJ said. "Ana's domain is far from a church."

"I gotta hand it to you, AJ, you _never_ waiver in your commitment to hating the woman. 'Ana's domain,'" Gregory repeated with a laugh. "I'm not even sure why you're here, other than to aggravate me and play Olivia's bodyguard. Your old stomping ground doesn't even know you're _alive,_ not that they probably ever did, anyway."

"Gregory, I am here for one reason only: my son. _La fin."_ He turned around. "Cole, how are you, truly? You don't have to be strong around us."

I knew he was going to start smothering me at some point, but I didn't think it would be this soon. "AJ, right now, I'm just sitting in a car listening to Rod Stewart. That's all. One step at a time, please."

"Fair enough. Please tell me you talked to Caitlin?"

"Yeah, early this morning." The mandolins on "Maggie May" slowly faded. The conversation came back to me, even though it seemed like dawn was a a week ago.

* * *

 _"Babe, I'm so sorry," Caitlin said. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you got the news."_

" _It's okay."_

" _I'm going to help Elaine tie up a few things at the restaurant, and we'll be up on Friday. Keep us posted on what happens today, alright?"_

" _Can you put Trey on?"_

" _He's still asleep, actually. I wish he would sleep this late at home."_

" _Kiss him for me."_

" _I always do. Cole…it's just so hard for me to know we almost lost you…because of someone who would've stolen your cufflinks if you'd turned around long enough."_

" _Cait…Phillip was like a father to me and I betrayed him with his wife."_

" _She was married the whole time you were together?"_

"… _Yes. He dragged Frankie- Francesca, on that cruise because of me."_

" _Frankie? As in Frankenstein's monster, I hope."_

 _"Sometimes, she was. But she still deserved to walk away from the ship."_

 _She sighed. "You have to talk to Dr. Estrada about this need to rescue women who aren't your responsibility, Cole. Like, devote a whole session to it. I thought_ I _was the one who couldn't get over your past, but it's_ you _."_

" _Sweetheart…"_

"… _this isn't the time, I'm sorry. Listen…your grandmother really left an impression on me. I've never heard anyone tell stories the way she did. I loved being at her house."_

" _Of course you did. You were a fugitive with little options."_

 _We laughed together a little. "This is the first time we've talked on the phone lately without choking up," she said. "I'd better give you back to Elaine now."_

* * *

It suddenly hit me. This was the first time my parents would see each other in 24 years. AJ always changed the subject whenever Elaine was brought up. My mother never waxed poetic about him anymore, once seeing him was an actual possibility. I couldn't blame her for not wanting to spoil the legend. "So, AJ…Elaine is coming up."

"I'm sorry?"

"Elaine. Coming up to the funeral."

"Oh. Oh- of course. I hadn't even thought of that."

"Aw, playing parent trap, Cole?" Gregory chuckled. "You going to dance around with a guitar and sing 'Let's get together, yeah yeah yeah?'"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" AJ grumbled. "Well I'm sorry, Gregory, but my future is right here." He extended his hand to Olivia, diagonal to him, but the SUV cabin was too vast for him to reach.

"Gregory, pull over at that 7-Eleven," Olivia said.

"No stopping. I don't stop on road trips, you know that."

"Gregory, _stop._ We left so early that no one had time to eat! Cole looks like plaster of Paris."

"Fine." He pulled in and put the car in park. "I'm staying here- you all have five minutes. Four minutes and fifty-nine seconds!"

The rest of us got out. "Ooh, is that a threat, _Dad?_ " AJ grinned into his open passenger window. "Can't exactly get paid without a client to represent, can you? I think I'll go to that record store across the way, and get Cole a walkman to block out your taunts." He started in the other direction.

"Will you all stop talking about me like I'm not here?" I called out.

The next thing I knew, Olivia took my hand and dragged me into the convenience store. The bright florescent lights stabbed my eyes. The place was empty except for the husky goth cashier who didn't seem the type to be listening to Natalie Imbruglia.

Olivia picked up a few boxed sandwiches, saying nothing, her little leather backpack with the Deschanel jewels in it swaying as she moved. I rolled my eyes. "What," I sighed. "We're alone now, so…what?"

"Hm? There's no what. Feeding your hollowed out face is what," she said, fanning out a handful of boxes. "They have all manner of sandwiches here, I wasn't sure what you'd like."

"I-I don't…after last night…why are you so calm?" I imagined her trudging back to Bette's condo in the pouring rain…or did she sleep in the cave? "This just isn't like- Italian with hot peppers please-" my stomach answered for me before I could finish. I slapped my forehead. "What's wrong with us, Olivia? How do we know so much about each other, but don't even know what kind of lunchmeat we like?"

"Those sort of things aren't important," she said, and continued to fill her basket. "That kiss…answered the important questions."

My breathing spiked instantly as I remembered her healing tongue, the heady smell of her skin in the rain. I grabbed some caffeinated ginseng drink that would probably give me palpitations. "About that…" I cracked the can open and chugged down the words I couldn't say. Then I choked and dribbled when she added a pack of condoms to her basket.

I coughed, wiping my chin. "O _livia?_ " I whispered.

"What. I'm not taking any chances with my Guinness Book fertility this weekend, that's all."

I balled my hands into fists and my trimmed-to-the-quick nails felt sharp in my palm. "Hey, why not? AJ _is_ father of the year, right? Why not add another unwanted Deschanel to the family?"

"AJ had a vasectomy in 1979, Cole."

"A- _ha!"_ I said with a deranged grin and with a pointed finger _._ "Because he _never_ wanted kids. Of course! Wait…then who are those for? Don't even tell me for Gregor-"

"Cole, get your head out of the grotto moss, they're for _us._ "

Luckily I wasn't swallowing the energy drink just then, but I dropped it, the volcanic green foam bubbling everywhere as the can shot under an endcap. I puffed air out heavily. "Nope, nope, I'm sliding into another dimension right now. _What's_ gotten into you? Why are you being so casual about this?"

"I've realised it's easier to just accept it. You and I. I care for you in a way I don't feel the need to justify. Inevitably, it will happen at the estate- being lovers. No one will be hurt, nor will our intention be to hurt anyone. We will be happy in our other lives, but we needn't torture ourselves. It'll be like trying not to breathe if we don't tend to each other."

The dull pain in my chest agreed. The soft, velvet tone of her voice had drawn me closer, my stomach pressed into her grocery basket. "I...I can't deny that, Olivia, but…why now?"

"All any of us might have is now. Juliana is gone. I nearly lost _you_."

"I could say the same about you."

"I'm fine. It's the look in your eyes that kills me. And when I see you in pain, I have to touch you."

"OK, so you're touchy-feely, you lived in London in the sixties, I get it. I-it doesn't mean we have to, like, do _that."_

She hooked her arm around my elbow. "Your sudden onset of bashfulness is charming. But I stand by my theory," she said, and we walked up to the checkout counter.

"Well if it isn't Cleanup in Aisle 3," the large goth cashier frowned at me.

"Yeah…sorry about that," I said.

"No, it's okay. I _live_ to pick up after suits like you."

"He doesn't always dress like this," Olivia said as she set down the items in her basket. "He's a construction worker. Normally very capable with his hands."

" _Olivia._ I've had it with this 360, OK?" I snatched the condoms off the counter. "You're not getting these."

"I'm sorry, is there a problem, Jock?" the cashier asked, pounding his fist into his other palm and cracking his knuckles. "I didn't know there were still rubber objections in this day and age. Let me guess, ' _it just doesn't feel the same?'"_

"No no no, I'm not anti-safe sex, I'm just anti-sex with _her._ I'm married. _"_ Goth man took the condoms from me and crunched my fingers as he did so. "Ow!"

He rang them up. "I don't care if you're a televangelist, shithead. When a woman buys you extra large, you bow down."

Olivia paid and smiled at him before turning to leave with the bags. "Good day, sir."

"If you care about me, don't put me in this position," I mumbled as I followed her out the door. "And don't giggle about how I just worded that!"

She stuffed my sandwich box into my chest. "Eat, Jock."

She returned to her seat in the car, and me to mine. AJ climbed into shotgun again and fumbled with the plastic bubble around a Discman. "How in the world are you supposed to get your finger into such a tight enclosure?"

I must have had a lake of sweat on my brow, a haunted look in my eyes as I gorged on my sandwich silently. I was losing it. All I could think about was this concept that rebooting an affair with Olivia was "inevitable." All I could think about was sex, for that matter, as I alternated between cold cuts and chokes of air. God, I had to get my strength up.

AJ was silent for a beat, which was long for him. "Who would've thought…that technology like this would exist, and that my mother would live to see it? Do you remember the night you met my family, Olivia?"

"Oh. How could I forget," she snickered between bites of turkey on rye. "Most Americans love an English accent, but not Auntie Theda, Oxford grad. She could smell the Essex sand in my shoes. I was terribly nervous."

"There was no need to be. Cole, your mother-in-law was as graceful as a swan that evening, enchanting and kind. Regardless of what our dear maiden aunt thought."

"I'm sure she was," I said.

"Was Theda just as overprotective of you?" he asked me.

"Nope. She didn't even think I was your son because I was 'so hairy,' as she put it."

"Wow," Gregory said. "Obstinate, judgmental…I think Aunt Theda and I will get along just fine."

When AJ finally got the Discman free, he put a CD in he'd bought called "Pacifying Pachelbel." When he gave the player to me, I replaced his disc with a rap one of Sean's I found wedged in my seat. Headphones on, I bobbed my head to lyrics about being a big G, even though I felt like the furthest thing from it.

* * *

I fell asleep for a little bit and woke up to Big Sur unfolding around me- the Santa Lucia mountains, the sea as royal blue as a certain someone's eyes. The road to the mansion was lined with cypress and redwood trees. Finally, we turned down Leffingwell Court and up the long, arched driveway with the crunch of broken shells that Grandmother had imported from Rhode Island.

"Well, it's not Hearst Castle," Gregory said as we got out, "but it will do."

Tobin the butler appeared from the front door and nodded at me, "Master Cole." He gracefully accepted Gregory's keys to park the SUV.

Gregory snorted, shaking his head. "A butler? This place is probably bankrupt."

"Except for the recently returned Deschanel jewels," I rubbed in quietly.

"That transfer of property is about as legally binding as you being married to that 7-Eleven sandwich."

When Tobin returned, he looked at AJ and turned gray. "My God…Master Armand Junior?" He touched my father's hands.

"Yes, Tobin, it's me."

"Here we go," Gregory sighed. "He'll explain his twenty-four years of 'mystery and intrigue,' later, my good man." He slapped Tobin's shoulder as we walked into the grand foyer. Gregory looked around, marveling at the paintings, Fabergé eggs and ornamental furniture. "Definitely not child proof, is it?"

"No," said AJ. "About as conducive to a proper childhood as Scientology."

"I figured out some workarounds." _Les fossettes,_ I half smiled to myself, the French word for dimples. I guess I was feeling a little more in my element as we breezed through the hall, a shaky Tobin leading the way. I wanted to rumble into the kitchen on Rollerblades and have Saoirse, the cook, playfully chase me out. Pretend the stained glass around the grand doorways could decode invisible ink. _"Mémé, I'm home!"_ I wanted to call out.

But, she wasn't going to come around the corner this time. She wasn't going to call me her _bijou_ or promise to straighten things out with the headmaster at boarding school. _"All just a misunderstanding, darling,"_ she'd say, though it never was. Every once and a while, she'd go into the kitchen and have Saoirse teach her how to bake me things. _"Gracious sakes, I feel like I'm in Amish country!"_

Her creations didn't look very good, but they tasted good, because she made them.

I slowed down, bombarded with memories. Drowning in them. Even ones that didn't exist. I pictured her holding the great-grandson she'd never met, singing the song she'd always sung to me. _"*It is only a paper moon…sailing over a cardboard sea. But it wouldn't be make-believe, if you believe in me.*…Oh, my little Trey…"_

The bitter water on the ship was closing in on me again. I wasn't supposed to outlive my grandmother.

I wasn't supposed to outlive my grandmother.

It was only when Olivia turned and saw me lagging behind, and coaxed me on with nothing but a nod and her long-lashed gaze, that my watery grave turned to only rain.

I watched them go into my grandfather's office suite, and finally filled my lungs enough to join them.

Grandfather's huge desk was the size of a conference table, and the chairs surrounding it looked like the first folding chairs ever made. Aunt Theda was already there, of course, mink around her neck, cane by her side. As always, she looked like a much less attractive Angela Lansbury, waiting for a juicy murder to happen in her presence. She eyed me for a tense moment before her eyes melted all over my father. " _AJ?_ God in heaven!" She threw a hand to her chest. "There goes my atrial fib, oh _zut!_ "

"See, AJ? It'll be a wonder if you don't kill anyone," Gregory said.

When Aunt Theda was done squeezing AJ's face, she noticed Olivia. "Oh no, not that devil-eyed minx!"

My eyes burned holes in my aunt but Olivia was unfazed. "Hello, darling," she waved.

"Junior, you ran away with HER all these years? I should've known!"

"Theda, dear, it's a long story, and I'd rather proceed with the proceedings. After you politely acknowledge my son?" he said, patting my back.

"So he IS yours!"

"And I suppose you never noticed he's the spitting image of your late brother-in-law?" AJ asked, arms folded.

"Armando Senior simply wasn't this… _dark,"_ she whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"Be sure to study Auntie's Color Swatch of Worthiness, everyone, there'll be a test later," I smiled facetiously.

"You, young man, are an ungrateful renegade who deserves to view my sister's will as much as the maid! You're still that same little brat who threw a basket of Easter grass everywhere."

Gregory kneaded his brow. "Can we all be seated, please?"

Grandmother's lawyer Dussault came in and he and Gregory introduced each other, sizing each other up. Dussault moved a TV stand on wheels where we could all see it. "What I have here is Juliana Marcelline Deschanel's last will and testament. It was her wish to be videotaped, and it was recorded here in San Simeon, California. It was signed, sealed and notarized on January 27, 1998 and has been at my firm ever since."

My 24th birthday. _After_ we were no longer on speaking terms.

She was sitting in her favorite wing chair. "Hello. If you're watching this…well, that means I've given up the ghost. I'm sure this is a tad unsettling, but I've always considered myself to be a modern woman, so a VHS cassette it is."

I smiled, swallowing the sand in my throat.

"At this very moment, I look upon my inevitable passing with little fear. I've led a full life. I've also prayed for absolution from my sins…notably, in driving away my dear son AJ, with my stubbornness, and by burdening him to live up to my late husband. Also…in taking my grandson away from a kind, hard-working lady, who has more moral integrity than I ever will."

AJ cleared his throat with an incriminating dampness to the sound. I felt Olivia's hand chastely take mine under the table. "However…as much as I hate to say this in the same breath, I will never regret bringing Cole's larger-than-life spirit and heart into this house."

Olivia squeezed my hand.

"Well…I suppose you're waiting for me to get to the good part, but one more thing. Never doubt that I loved my family. Whether I was under-doing it or overdoing it…I loved you. Pure and simple."

She paused. "I, Juliana Deschanel, being of sound mind and body, and revoking all prior wills and codicils, hereby bequest my properties and interests, a sum to the tune of seven million dollars…to my grandson, Cole Antoine Deschanel, my sole beneficiary."

You could hear a pin drop. You could hear the pins in Theda's hip drop. "Blasphemous…!" she choked.

Gregory said nothing, then finally uttered, "His initials actually spell _CAD?"_

"Son…" AJ breathed quietly, his eyes like quarters. "You just became a very rich man."

"But," Grandmother interrupted, "I am also naming an executrix to control the fortune, knowing Cole isn't the greatest with money."

"ExecuTRIX! Oh, hallelujah!" Aunt Theda cried. "It's me, it has to be me, Ana darling, please…"

But, as Grandmother continued, Theda's face wilted. "As I've read in the Orange County papers for years, she is a savvy business woman, but has lead a difficult life. No doubt because of the guilt from her involvement in my grandson's kidnapping. I hope that helping him find his way will ease her conscience and bring her peace. Her name is Mrs. Olivia Richards."

* * *

A/N: Songs: "Maggie May" by Rod Stewart and Martin Quittenton, "It's Only a Paper Moon," by Harold Arlen.


	3. Sucre

Mémé said a few more things to wrap up her video, but I don't think it reached any of us. When the screen went black, Gregory jabbed the stop button. "And, as we all know, although a videotape is solid proof of a decedent's mental competence- amazingly enough- and a compelling drama device on TV shows, it's meant to supplement, not substitute a properly prepared written-"

Dussault produced a pamphlet, _Last Will and Testament_ scripted in that familiar Old English font. "Which is right here. It's all in print. Cole is the beneficiary, Olivia the executrix."

I took all of this in, trying not to let out a laugh-cry hybrid that would sound really unstable. It wasn't even about the money, I swear. It was the fact that Mémé had left the world finally _getting it._ That animated English girl at her table, who didn't speak perfectly and empathized with the servants, was human. She deserved a position of power as much as a Newport heiress did. Her tortured soul deserved to find peace.

But I looked at Olivia and saw an expression that was anything but peaceful. She looked more upset than Aunt Theda, who was huffing a nebulizer. "After the estrangement. The unforgivable estrangement!" Theda croaked.

"Did you _know_ about this, Olivia?" Gregory threw her a look he'd probably given many times before, and she covered her heart.

"No! I swear, it's the first time I'm hearing about it. God, what is this, Del all over again?"

"How did Ana know about your involvement in the kidnapping? Did you tell her?" AJ asked.

"No. Del probably had too many celebratory scotches and _he_ told her!"

"But guess who still doesn't know? Elaine," Gregory said with a sinister half grin. "Looks like you've got a lot of explaining to do when she asks why you, of all people, is Cole's executrix."

"We'll just..." she said, gesturing nervously. "We'll tell her it's because Juliana knew a meddling mother-in-law would keep the heir in line."

"You weren't his mother-in-law at the time this will was notarized, sweetheart," Gregory said. "Try again."

"Would anyone like to hear what I have to say about this?" I tossed into the fray.

Apparently, it would have to wait. "If Ana wanted to make amends for what she did, why in God's name didn't she make _Elaine_ the executrix?" AJ said, throwing his hands up.

"She was saddened by my wife's multiple DUI's in the paper, as if they had anything to do with sending Cole to live in luxury. It would've made as much sense to appoint the truck driver Olivia rear-ended as executor," Gregory said.

"You did hear the part where she called her business savvy?" I offered. Olivia looked at me with crumbling eyes. "I wouldn't know where to start. I _am_ bad with money."

" _Earning_ it, at least," Gregory said.

"I can't win with you, can I? I work my ass off to provide for Caitlin and Trey- I'm a blue collar bum. I get an inheritance- I'm a rich bum! You know what? Maybe I want to give some of it to orphaned kids. Maybe I want to go to college." Gregory's laughter started before I'd even finished.

"Cole, I don't want you to have to ask me for your own money, like a child," she said, her voice shaking.

AJ said, "I don't mean to change the subject, but I attest we still shouldn't tell Elaine the truth about the kidnapping. It would only do her unnecessary harm."

"Shut up, AJ," Gregory said. "'Unnecessary harm' is your middle name! It's only a matter of time before you con Olivia into writing you a check so you can disappear again, your son's purpose fulfilled. Your so-called wealth is a time bomb of bad investments. Apple computers!" he chuckled. "They're never going to rally again."

Auntie Theda spoke again, after watching the comments shoot back and forth like a ping pong match. She put down her nebulizer. "I say we tell this barnacle on the hull of affluence to go back to the rock where she came from! Then we can do whatever we want with _our_ money, Cole!"

"Auntie, put that thing back in your mouth and butt out!" I snapped.

Olivia shot up from her chair, trembling and shaking her head. "I can't do this," she said, and I could hear the building tears in her throat. "What if I forfeit, resign?"

Gregory lit up. "Oh…really? In that case, probate court can appoint a new executor. Any interested party will do, really, like… _me,_ for instance. This windfall stands to whisk my daughter and grandson clear out of my life. I'd be more than happy to prevent that, and I think a judge will agree, once I produce Cole's rap sheet."

"YOU as the executor? That's a deal with the devil if I ever heard one!" AJ shot back.

Olivia pounded the table. "Stop it, all of you! I didn't ask for any of this! I'm so tired of being willed things I don't want!" She ran for the office door and didn't look back.

"Olivia..." I called after her, exhaling everything into that ocean of vowels.

"Darling, wait," AJ said. "Oh, no, it'll be so hard to talk her down from this."

"You can say that again," Gregory smiled. "She's probably going to throw the Deschanel jewels into the ocean like the Titanic lady." We went into the empty hall, not even hearing an echo of her steps. "Well, I'm off to find her first and _cement_ the fact that stepping down is the right choice."

AJ and Gregory went one way and I went another.

* * *

I found her storming towards the horse stables, and I ran to catch up. "C'mon, Olivia! I don't get why it's so bad! Where are you going?"

"I don't know. Is there a grotto somewhere on these grounds?" she said, still marching beyond me.

"Even if there was, it wouldn't make you forget about Gregory's crap this time. Don't let him drag this into probate and win. I trust you, I want you to be my executrix."

"The very thought of it makes me feel like the old bank cronies in _Mary Poppins_."

I snickered. " _It's_ _ **my**_ _tuppence! I want to feed the birds,_ " I said in a high-pitched English accent.

"Cole, please! I'm mortified. I was such a fool earlier, acting like a coquette in a 7-Eleven!"

"Believe me, I've seen plenty of coquetting in action. You were just telling it like it is, and it stopped me in my tracks. It made me feel again for the first time since…last night."

She cringed. "And you fought it, sensibly! Now it looks like I _did_ know about the will all along, and I was just trying to seduce you for your money."

"I know a look of genuine surprise when I see it, Marble Eyes, and you had one in the office."

"Even so…if I get soft on you now it'll _still_ look bad."

"You _are_ soft on me, and you won't able to just turn it off because of this little development."

" _Little_ development? When I heard I was going to have my talons on this estate, it brought back so much guilt about controlling your destiny. Again, and _again!_ I'm doing the same thing by luring you back into my bed."

"You're not luring me. I _want_ to."

"It's not going to help you, Cole- it was selfish and cruel of me to think so. _IF_ I accept being executrix, we have to stop this flight of fancy. I may not have a shred of morality, but at least I can have business ethics."

"Until the first private meeting we have."

"Stop it! You need to be grieving right now, picking up the pieces of your life, not concerning yourself with my mid-life crisis!"

"I'll always be concerned about you, Olivia, and it's not gonna stop, whether or not we ever lay a hand on each other again!"

"Please, Cole. Go back to the house and leave me to think."

And just like that, I stopped walking after her. My worn Italian shoes were frozen in the grass. I had a certain weakness for her solitude, after the beauty I'd seen in it. Maybe if she was alone with her thoughts long enough, she'd be swept up in a monologue and say, _"Nothing can drive you away."_

She sped up, striding into the meadow. She turned back to me for a moment until I watched her stumble, fold, and drop into the earth.

"Olivia?!" Sprinting, I heard a low splash that was like a punch in the stomach. I ditched to the ground, staring into a twenty foot hole with black water at the bottom. Olivia surfaced, dirty and thrashing.

"Cole!... don't come any closer!"

"Olivia, oh my God, are you hurt?"

"My ankle, I think I twisted it!"

"Oh man, this must be an old well that the earthquake opened up!"

"There must be something to…grab hold of!" She dug her nails into the walls, but the brickwork was flat, except for a brambly growth that snapped when she tried to pull on it. "It's, it's alright, I can tread water until you get help! It's a little cold, but I'm fine."

I could see she was struggling already, her head getting lower, the water thick and heavy. The cold and the pain in her leg was visible in her eyes, as her energy quickly drained away. "You're out of your mind if you think I'm leaving you there while I go all the way back to the house! I'm gonna find a rope!"

"Cole, no!"

I threw off my suit jacket and ran for the nearby stable. I found a strong long-line. "Don't worry about me, just keep talking, okay?" I called back as I unfurled it as fast as I could.

Her voice sounded more and more strained. "Cole, please. I'm glad I didn't…drag you in here, with me. I'm…mmph…an albatross."

"I look good in big gold medallions. Just ask Sean!"

"Please don't. D-don't come down here..." Then I heard nothing. Then a shrill gasp for breath. "My leg-"

Chilling silence. An echoing silence.

"Olivia, no... _no!_ " I called out, trying my damnedest to whip up a Boy Scout knot around a stake in the ground for the horses. I looked down the well and froze. It was much narrower than the ship's funnel.

I was wearing a white shirt, black dress pants.

But she was gone, and the only trace of her was churning water.

I clutched the rope and repelled in. "Olivia!"

The Neptune memories tried to paralyze me every inch of the way, but I just kept chanting her name. Making sure the rope had enough slack, I landed in the water, a blur of sediment. I must've been under, in the muffled world of my nightmares, flailing like a madman. But I felt nothing, no sensation at all until I felt her hand grab my shirt. I rocketed her to the surface and she coughed instantly.

"Oh God! Olivia, thank God. Put your arms around my shoulders, albatross, c'mon."

"Cole," she mumbled, going limp against my back except for the embrace of her shaking arms. "You're getting. Triggered."

"Big time," I nodded, breathing the stale well air heavily. "But I've got you."

The escape was torturous, a lot of kicking and slamming against the wall, dragging us up the rope and hoping to God she was strong enough to hold on. When my hand hit the air outside, I hoisted us both to safety.

I held her to my body, my thudding heart probably bruising her. I rocked her back and forth. She held on to my shirt. "Y-you could've had. A panic attack. Gotten hurt," she panted.

"But I didn't. See? I _am_ picking up the pieces of my life. At least the loud, brunette piece."

She rested her forehead against mine, and I closed my eyes…until I heard Gregory's voice call out that one syllable that could shatter the earth.

"Liv?!"

He and AJ raced up to us.

"Darling, what happened!"

"What the _hell_ happened is more like it," Gregory pushed me away from her.

"I fell down an old well, Cole saved me."

AJ's eyes widened as he looked into the pit. "My God, my father probably threw coins down there as a boy."

"So. An ancient well collapses on the day of the will reading," Gregory mused. "Juliana might've chosen you, Olivia, but it looks like the ghost of Armando Senior isn't happy. You really want to mess with that?"

"You're not going to frighten me out of this responsibility, Gregory, and you can forget about bringing it to probate court, because I'm _accepting_ the position of executrix!"

"You're freezing, darling. And your hand is bleeding! Let's get you inside," AJ said, lifting her into his arms. "I'm calling the doctor."

"But-" Olivia made painful eye-contact with me over his shoulder as they left. As they got smaller and smaller, Gregory and I were still standing there.

"You knew about that well and lead her right to it, so you could win her over with your fake heroics," he said.

"Go to hell."

"And then holding on to her like an orphaned gorilla, well. That was a nice touch. Laying on the sap to get a cash advance. You're damn lucky she's alright," he growled, and started back towards the mansion.

* * *

Dr. Clarkson closed the door of the guest room, black bag in his hand. He was getting up in age, and he'd been making house calls here forever, since his family emigrated from England. Of course, his reaction to seeing AJ was a big old "Blimey!"

Olivia had been given a warm bath and monitored for the last hour. I'd taken a shower in the pool house, tempted to release the tension in a pathetic, lustful way. But, I didn't. The dirt swirling down the drain was too much of a reminder of mortality.

"She'll be alright," Dr. Clarkson said. "She has a sprained ankle, and a mild case of hypothermia that I'm treating with warm liquids and muscle relaxers. Her lungs didn't catch any of that bilge water, thank goodness. Warmth and rest will suit her well. Cole, I'm so sorry about Juliana. We'll see you at the wake tomorrow night."

"Thank you, Doctor," I said, shaking his hand, and my father did the same.

When AJ and I were alone for a moment, he braced my shoulders. "I'm so sorry you had to face your fears in this way, Cole...but I'm forever in your debt."

I smiled weakly. "I guess a baptism by fire was the way to go. At least it'll save me some therapy visits."

"Where's Gregory, do you suppose?"

"Probably scheming with Aunt Theda somewhere."

"As much as I'd love to cut him a check and send him on his way, we should make him our guest and keep a close eye on him."

"I know. He thinks I set up the whole thing with the well to schmooze Olivia into being my executrix."

"And he thinks I'm going to snake your money out of her. Why did she think you needed his legal advice, anyhow? All he's done is stir the pot!"

"Well, it could've worked in our favor if he thought Caitlin didn't get enough out of this."

"And now he's raring to contest because you got too _much._ You're probably worth more than he is!"

"I haven't had a chance to really to wrap my head around it. Finally, the Deschanels are back on top, right?"

"I believe the appropriate term is 'boo-ya!'" he smiled. "Well, not that we weren't superior in other ways, but… do you think, to sway her, he might attempt to…" he sighed. "-Rekindle something with her? It _is_ very picturesque up here, unfortunately..."

I bit the inside of my mouth. "I…I don't know if he would. I don't know anything for sure anymore."

"I wonder if…knowing the way Olivia loves you, she assumes Gregory will come around, too. But, there's no warming that heart. I could see the relief in his eyes that she was alright, but he couldn't even express it."

The words _Olivia loves you_ stuck to my ribs. I knew he meant it in a parental way, but it didn't steal the thunder it caused inside me.

"Now that everything's calmed down, you should call Caitlin and get her up to date with the good news. I'll keep vigil for the English patient."

"AJ…" I said as I turned to leave. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For having a stockpile of mercy, for whatever reason. For not giving up on me."

"Son, I will take whatever slings and arrows come my way in hopes that some day you'll call me 'Dad.' It might be many years from now, and it might slip out purely by accident, but I'll wait forever until you believe in it."

* * *

The way Elaine and Caitlin squealed with delight on speaker, I could envision them jumping up and down like we were on some sort of hologram phone. "Oh my God, Cole! Do you know what this means?" my wife sniffed. "We don't have to worry about money any more. We don't have to rely on Daddy! You don't have to go back to that horrible job!"

Elaine's voice came through. "Baby, I'm so happy for you guys. Now you can make a fresh start and put all this Francesca stuff behind you."

Yeah. Francesca. The red herring in all this. "I want that. More than anything." And I did, because it was so simple. It also would've been simple to be willed a thousand dollars and a Wendy's gift certificate. Somehow, that didn't scream fresh start.

I _had_ worried about money over the spring. A lot. I'd thought about stealing, hard. But…I'd chosen that horrible job. Learned a lot from it, too.

I didn't even get into the executrix stuff and Olivia falling down a well like an episode of Lassie. "Can I talk to Trey?" I asked.

"C'mon, sweetie," Caitlin said in a baby lilt, and I heard the groan of a crib mattress. "Say hi to Daddy! He's at our big new house!"

And we have one in Newport and Bordeaux, too, I thought. And I know jack shit about property taxes, estate taxes- any taxes, for that manner. I heard Trey breathing and gurgling into the receiver. "Da?"

"Hey, buddy, it's me. I can't wait to see you."

"Gamma?"

"Grandma's tired, kiddo, she's resting."

"He's talking so early. So smart, isn't he?" Elaine beamed. "And you won't be needing any 529 college plan, that's for sure!"

When we all hung up, I was shivering with guilt and wanting to see them all so badly. I remembered how Caitlin recoiled at my touch at the end of the pregnancy. How I missed the whole birth. The earthquake during the baptism party. The cruise. Nothing seemed to go right for us, but money always solved everything in the movies. Only Lifetime horror movies had mistresses.

* * *

Later, I knocked on Olivia's door.

"Come in," she said, her voice comfortingly calm. I opened the door to her looking very cozy in the full-size guest bed, her leg elevated, her frame swaddled in white blankets. "Hello."

"Ta-da!" I said, holding a lap tray full of steaming china. "Brought you some dinner."

"You didn't have to do this, you could've just had the staff bring it."

"Well, I told them to take the rest of the day off. I call this the Hypothermic Special. A light beef consommé, followed by a creamy potato leek soup, and a French-pressed tea that'll knock your socks off."

She laughed. "You made it?"

"Uh...ok, no. Saoirse did. We'd have to get Dr. Clarkson back here if you ate some of _my_ cooking."

"Well, if all that doesn't thaw me out, I don't know what will."

I put it in front of her and sat on the edge of the bed, and she ate heartily. Between bites, she was really chatty. I wasn't sure if silence between us scared her, or if she was a victim of that burst of energy after a near-death experience. "…and I think the mud actually did wonders for my hair.. It looks smarter now than it did earlier. You know…if I didn't know any better I'd think you were actually listening intently to all this babble."

"I am."

It was quiet for a moment, and she drank from the soup bowl so it obstructed her face. She put it down slowly and put the tray on the nightstand. "…thank you. If I'm not mistaken, today was the…third time you've saved my life. Fourth, if you count the possibility of the tide coming in the night we met."

"We've come a long way since then."

"Have we?" She looked down. "You didn't want to stay at the hotel that night…but you yielded to me. You always have."

"I guess I'm just used to a woman telling me what to do." I swallowed hard. "So, drink your tea, you."

She half smiled, and acquiesced. "Even though I think this place is cursed in some way, I feel so comfortable here. And it's because…I swear there's an angel's presence here."

"My grandmother?"

"No...the son we lost."

"Oh, Olivia..."

"Cole...I'm lucky that holding him in the deepest, loneliest part of your heart hasn't destroyed you."

I reminded myself to blink. I took her hand, never feeling so homesick in my own home. "It could never destroy me. I love him."

She nodded, sniffing, our eyes turning to liquid. "How can someone so much a part of who we are...be a secret?"

"How did the nurse who left her post become so much a part of who I am..?"

I clasped her face and drew her into my kiss. She made a squeak that dissolved into silence. My hands slid down to the small of her back as I kissed her like the apocalypse was coming. She gasped from my mouth, her fingers dancing through my hair. It occurred to me that she should take it easy, but at least she was getting more than enough body heat.

We broke apart for a moment, staring at each other, out of breath. "You can control me all you want," I whispered. "I need it. Just let me take control of one thing. Let me finish you." She shuddered, her head tilting back. She was alive and I was going to make her feel it, achingly. But quickly. I lifted her nightgown and worked her panties down to her feet, and away. She moaned in response and I absorbed her whimpers from a feverish kiss, deep into my chest.

The junction of her thighs, flushed with blood, was helpless to the pressure of my thumb, to my fingers pumping inside her, in time with the motion of her hips. She fumbled for my belt and I shook my head into our kiss, pushing her wrists down on the pillow. She moved against my fingertips, taking what she wanted as I lead her into what I wanted. _La petite mort._ I hadn't felt it overtake her since our last night at the hotel, when she writhed so hard her tiara went over her eyes.

She was close until we heard telltale creaks in the Edwardian floors of the hallway.

I practically did a backflip into a chair beside the bed as she whisked herself into a pile of blankets. AJ opened the door. "Hello, you two. Kicking off the nightshift, are we?" he asked. "Darling, you're looking much better. That rosy hue is coming back."

"Yep," she trembled.

"Are you alright?"

"Just…frustrated, to be stuck here."

"I know it's against that high strung nature of yours, but I like you restrained in bed where you can't come upon any danger."

"I should go," I said, my heart exploding.

"I'll take it from here," he said, and extended his hand. Remembering where mine had just been, I froze. I threw my arms around him in a quick hug and then excused myself.

I stood outside the door for a moment. I heard him say, with quiet joy, "Darling, did you see that? My prayers are finally being answered."

* * *

I went to the high summit of the house where my room was. Everything was just as I left it. A swimsuited Kathy Ireland poster glared at me, as she'd done for most of my teens.

I splashed my face in the pedestal sink of my bathroom, washing up vigorously.

This was what we wanted, wasn't it? To have an affair.

I'd spent a considerable chunk of my life escaping from husbands and boyfriends. Standing on ledges outside windows. It was all part of the endorphins.

But she was my rush. My Olivia.

The other man was my father, on cloud nine because I'd briefly hugged him.

The one part of AJ that I had growing up was his record collection and hi-fi turntable. I used to try to figure out what he was like from the music. It was bittersweet joy for me then. Now, the collection hurt like never before, as I wondered which songs reminded him of Olivia.

Tomorrow was time to be the conniving kid, and prod him towards Elaine.

As night fell, Neil Young's "Sugar Mountain" was spinning and I was lying on the floor of my childhood sanctuary, with the light off.


End file.
